See what? Had Wanda found the ledger?
Candy checked the time on her phone. It was a few minutes before two o’clock. She flipped the phone closed and slid it into the front pocket of her jeans. If she wanted to make it back to her place in time to meet Wanda, she’d have to hurry.
Now that the parade had passed, Ocean Avenue was jammed with people hurrying off in every direction as the first cars allowed back onto the road started inching their way up along the Loop. She could hear the sounds of the band and sirens fading into the distance as the parade marched northwest toward Stone Hill Cemetery.
She quickened her pace, but immediately the dispersing crowd slowed her up, making her move in starts and stops.
On a sudden impulse she reached into her pocket for the phone and called Maggie again. “Can you meet me at the Jeep? I have to hurry.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I’ll tell you in the car.”
A short time later, feeling a bit bedraggled after rushing about and fighting her way through the crowds, she saw Maggie standing beside the Jeep, and waved.
“Who’s your hairdresser?” her best friend asked as she walked up.
Candy gave her a half smile. “Why?”
Maggie discreetly indicated her hair. “You might want to make an appointment.”
Candy’s hand instantly went to her hair. “Does it look that bad?” she asked in an exaggerated whisper.
“Nothing a good comb-through won’t fix.” Maggie reached up to brush back several loose strands of Candy’s hair and arrange it a bit. “There, that helps. Oh, here. You probably need this.” She handed over Candy’s purse, which she’d been carrying. “I found your keys and opened it up. I hope that’s okay.”
She pointed through the window. Wilma Mae was sitting in the backseat, wrapped in a shawl. When she saw Candy, the elderly woman waved with her fingers and smiled weakly.
Candy opened the driver’s-side door and climbed in. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s hanging in there. Aren’t you, Wilma Mae?” Maggie flashed a wave at the elderly woman as she scooted around the front of the Jeep and climbed into the passenger seat. “We had fun with the boys, but then they took off and left us girls sitting in the booth alone, so we sort of watched the parade from there.” She looked over at Candy as she snapped her seat belt closed. “So, it sounds like you’ve been busy.”
“I have, and I found out some interesting things.”
“Like what?”
Candy started up the Jeep, checked the rearview mirror, and looked behind her as she backed out. “Like Wanda was trying to get Charlotte fired.”
“Really?”
“Yup, and I got some interesting news from Oliver about the cook-off and that stew Wilma Mae tasted.”
“My, my.”
“And, oh yeah, Captain Mike’s watching my back.”
Maggie laughed. “Captain Mike? That old geezer?”
“The very one. If I’m ever in trouble, and you need to get help, he’s definitely the one you should call.” And as they sat in a long line of cars waiting to exit the parking lot, Candy told Maggie everything she’d found out about Charlotte and Wanda and the contestants’ sheet on Robbie’s clipboard and the mysteriously mobile bowl of lobster stew that had somehow showed up in front of Wilma Mae.
“Who could have put it there?” Maggie asked.
“I can think of several people right off the bat.” Candy flicked on her signal and finally made a left-hand turn out of the parking lot onto the Loop, aided by a uniformed police officer, who held the traffic back for them. Maggie waved politely at the nice officer. “Like Robbie Bridges.”
“Or Roger Sykes.”
“Yup, there’s him. Alby could have done it too, I suppose. Even Wanda, though I don’t recall seeing her around the judges’ table. Or maybe there’s someone else we don’t know about yet.”
“Of course, that’s the stew Wilma Mae ate,” Maggie said softly, turning around and giving the elderly woman a smile. But Wilma Mae was staring out the window in silence. She seemed oblivious to their conversation.
“Of course.” Candy glanced down at her watch again. It was nearly two twenty. She had to be back at the farm in less than ten minutes to meet Cinnamon Girl, alias Wanda, and they were still stuck in postparade traffic.
“So this mystery stew just happens to show up right in front of her? Doesn’t that sound awfully suspicious to you?”
“It does.”
Maggie leaned close and lowered her voice. “Do you think someone put it there on purpose, so Wilma Mae would see it?”
“That’s my guess.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I can’t see where there’s anything to be gained by it. Unless...” Candy’s voice trailed off as a sudden thought came to her.
“Unless what?”
Candy glanced back over her shoulder, then said in a whisper only Maggie could hear, “Unless someone wanted to get rid of Wilma Mae. Maybe someone didn’t want her judging the cook-off. And they figured the best way to disrupt things was to put that stew in front of her and create a ruckus.”
“I guess it worked, didn’t it?”
“It certainly did.”
The traffic thickened as the minutes ticked by all too quickly, and Candy soon realized there wasn’t enough time to take Maggie and Wilma Mae back to Maggie’s home in Fowler’s Corner and still make it to the farm by two thirty to catch Wanda.
So at the intersection of River Road, Candy flicked on her signal again and turned left instead of right. “I know you’re going to hate this,” she told Maggie, “but you’re going to have to indulge me on something.”
“What’s that? We’re not going home?”
“We’re going to Blueberry Acres. I have to meet someone at the farm at two thirty, and I’m late. So you’ll just have to come along for the ride, okay?”
“Well, sure, but... who are you meeting?”
Candy looked as apologetic as possible, as if she were delivering some really bad news. “It’s Wanda Boyle.”
Maggie’s shocked expression and silence told her everything she needed to know, but the situation couldn’t be helped.
Ten minutes later they turned into the long dirt driveway that led to the farm. As Candy drove toward the house, she spotted Wanda’s SUV parked in front of the barn.
She pulled the Jeep to a halt beside Wanda’s vehicle and turned toward her friend. “Look, you don’t even have to get out of the car,” she told Maggie. “Just sit tight and let me talk to her.”
“What about Wilma Mae?”
Candy looked around. The elderly woman was nodding off. “On second thought, maybe you should take her inside and let her lie down.” She handed the keys to Maggie. “As soon as I’m done here we’ll take her back to your place.”
“Well, okay.” Maggie sounded uncertain as she looked over. “Just be careful. Whatever you do, don’t turn your back on her. I don’t trust her.”
“Neither do I,” Candy said as she opened the driver’s-side door and climbed out.
She found Wanda behind the barn looking at the chickens.
“Hello, Wanda,” Candy said as she walked up behind her nemesis.
Wanda turned, surveying her imperiously. “You’re late.”
“I got stuck in traffic.”
“I was just about to leave.”
“Well, I’m here now. So what’s this all about?”
